


I'll be Waiting For You Until The End.

by Cythise



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mafia AU, Major character death - Freeform, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:07:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cythise/pseuds/Cythise
Summary: After Sinbad's death and the disparition of the Magi System, the Djinns were freed into the world, still immortal and powerful but in human enveloppes.Focalor's life had little sense anymore, but he swore he would wait and find Sinbad, no matter how long it would take.But finding him didn't mean he would never have to mourn again...
Relationships: Focalor/Sinbad (Magi)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	I'll be Waiting For You Until The End.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaiSkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaiSkitty/gifts).



There’s a form kneeling in front of the dark polished stone carved with golden letters. A tall man with long auburn hair and a black fedora placed low over his eyes.

It shouldn’t have happened.

It shouldn’t have.

_But it did._

When he closes his eyes, he can still see the images, hear the sounds, or rather the lack of them. All muted. Only broken glass and his own voice screaming and breaking.

The man stands up, readjusting his gloves, eyes empty and face unreadable. His white shirt is splattered with blood.

They deserved it, all of them.

They took from him the only thing tying him to this world. The price of their worthless lives could not even fill the void now consuming his soul. Killing them did nothing to diminish the ache, brought no salvation to his tortured mind. But if death couldn’t affect him, not with humans ways, he could at least inflict it upon them as a fair retribution.

A deserved closure.

***

A Djinn’s life is long and torturous. For Focalor, it was more associated to a curse rather than a benediction. He had given his mortal life willingly of course, to save his people, to help creating a better world. But the lonely years spent in a dungeon, the many odious and arrogant humans sacrificing themselves to his trial despite his ominous warnings had made him wondered back then , if it had been a worthy decision.

Then he had met Sinbad.

Bright and radiant as the Sun.

Singular.

Not in that singular type of way people and the man himself usually referred to, no.

Focalor has been drawn to this human’s inner flame, the passion with which he accomplished any tasks, his utopian goals and naivety. His natural charms. The darkness clutching dangerously at his wonderful soul.

He knew at this moment that there would be no one else in this world worthy of his trust and power.

_The years had proven he hadn’t made the easiest choice._

They trusted each other, at first at least, they fought too. As Sinbad was getting more and more influenced, Focalor became dissident. They argued. They made up. They argued again, this vicious circle continuing until Sinbad decided he didn’t need to wear his metal vessels anymore.

Focalor had felt lonely again, at least for a moment.

Naively with his fellow Djinn comrades he had helped gather his King’s rukh, giving him one last chance at life. He knows it had been foolish. Sinbad’s body had been gone. His mind had lost all reasons. He wasn’t that ambitious and grinning young man anymore.

When the Magi system broke, the Djinns had been set free in the current world.

Focalor hadn’t taken the news too well.

He was lonely, once again. Lost in this human world that didn’t want him anymore.

But somehow, he knew Sinbad would return. He didn’t know how nor when, but he knew he would.

_And so he waited._

Centuries passed, a fleeting moment for an immortal soul, but still too painfully slow for Focalor.

He roamed the world, staying away from human conflicts, never meddling in their silly affairs. They never changed, no matter the ages.

He didn’t care for them anymore.

He finally found him one night, in a dark alley, face against the ground with blood pooling from a wound on the forehead. His immortal heart had stopped beating an instant as he reached for the unconscious body, thinking he was already losing him again.

But he didn’t.

Sinbad was alive.

Sinbad was the head of a mafia family. A prominent one.

It seems this singular man was not bound to have a single simple and common life after all.

Introducing himself had been hard in this world where magic and spirits didn’t have a place anymore, and Focalor had long pondered if he should tell the truth about their past lives.

But after their deep bond reforged almost effortlessly, he eventually did, at least part of it.

***

Focalor remembers the night before, the last sweetest memories carved in his old mind. Sinbad had been in an incredible mood, calling off his meetings and regular patrols and asking for his company. They had talked a bit but mostly touched, their preferred way of communication.

Coaxing brush of lips and light kisses, scarred hands caressing and soothing tense muscles. Relaxed sighs and knowing smiles. Meeting gazes and shivers of arousal.

The implacable mafia boss surrendered to nothing but his loyal bodyguard’s arms.

In them, he was but a simple man. Both a willing and passionate lover.

Once clothes were discarded, any foreign concern and matter was soon forgotten. It was just about the two of them, seeking and giving pleasure. Reaching ecstasy and becoming one.

Bodies rubbed and pressed together in a sensual dance, limbs wrestling and tangling to try to keep a semblance of control over the other, but Focalor had known better when he had seen his King come into his room that night. He had known the violet-haired man wanted to forget all obligations and be the receptacle of his companion’s thorough loving and care.

Words and any form of coherent language were long forgotten if not for the hoarse whispers of two names, grunts and moans the only sounds filling the room the rest of the time. When Focalor had taken Sinbad, the both of them had shuddered, chests tight, heat rising to colour their cheeks red with lust and unconditional trust. When they eventually came, moaning each other’s names like an oath, an unbreakable vow, they had felt a fulfilment like they never had before.  
  
Never had they spoken out loud about their feelings and the nature of their relationship.

It was unneeded.

_They knew._

Nothing would compare to it.

No one would be able to sway them the same way the other did.

When Sinbad had fallen asleep in the comfort of his arms that night, Focalor would have never thought it would be the last time...

...before he lost him again.

***

Gun fires sounds and loud metallic thuds. Screams and smoke.

They had come here for an important and decisive business. They knew an ambush had to be expected.

They weren’t wrong.

A window exploded in a rain of glass at the same time a metal door was broken down. Gunshots were exchange and Focalor instinctively tugged Sinbad behind him. But Sinbad never stayed put. He never stayed covered now matter how many times Focalor had tried to shield him before. He couldn’t reach for him as he was soon assaulted by several men. Knives and guns tried to aim at him, a huge man rushing forth to apprehend and immobilize him. But they were no match. Though Focalor’s powers had diminish within his human envelope, he could still use the wind to his advantage, he wasn’t as affected as humans by the regular pain and blows inflected upon his flesh.

_He could feel. He could hurt. But he couldn’t die._

So the Djinn fought like a wild beast, got rid of several of his attackers, but his mind was in a turmoil.

_Where was Sinbad ? Where was he?_

He eventually found an opening, kicking another two of his opponents before diving to the center of the room where he had heard his King’s voice.

He finally saw him. Long violet hair in disarray and white suit stained in red, three men targeting him with guns and blades.

Focalor had reached for him, loading his gun and taking one man down. Sinbad took care of another.

None had seen the man hidden in the shadow.

Two gunshots.

Time seemed to stop.

Rather than turning around with a familiar smirk and an arrogant comment, Sinbad had collapsed soundlessly at his feet in a pool of blood.

Deaf to the world, Focalor had thrown himself to the ground, reaching for his King’s limp body and craddling him in his arms as the chaos around continued.

***

Focalor rearranges the bouquet of heliotropes and tulip on the dark stone, looking one last time at the picture of his king with his charming smile frozen in time.

His time here was over.

His King’s murderers were dead. Their clan eradicated. He had made sure Sinbad’s business would fall into good hands that would respect his principles and make it prosper for the years to come.

“Come back soon, Sin.”

He was so tired of being lonely.

Tired of waiting and longing for an excruciating amount of years for a flicker of joy that would never last.

A watery gleam starts inhabiting Focalor’s ocher eyes, a single tear drop rolling heavy along the cold skin of his cheek.

_Curse this immortality._

“I miss you already...”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading until the end!  
> I know I disappeared and I have a lot to write for my other works but this is a late BDay gift for my friend Sadi who feeds only on angst lol.  
> I tried another type of writting for this one, a bit rhythmic, I hope it's still pleasant to read.  
> This was painful to write, so I hope the angst dose is enough ;w;
> 
> Flowers symbolism: 
> 
> Tulip: Deep Love and Rebirth  
> Heliotrope: Undying Love/Passion/Devotion


End file.
